Chapter 2 — “Garden of Hell”

The morning sun in Hell was oddly… beautiful.

Not that I ever imagined I’d be saying that sentence in my life. Or my afterlife.

Warm crimson rays pierced through twisted, thorn-wrapped trees. Black roses bloomed along cobblestone paths that curved like serpents. Strange butterflies with bone-white wings drifted lazily in the breeze.

I was nestled gently in the arms of the Demon Queen Sylvia Veo Lucifera.

Yes. That Demon Queen.

In her left hand, she cradled me like some fragile gemstone, while her right flicked through pages of an ancient floating grimoire. Her heels clicked softly against the stone as we made our way through her private royal garden. No guards. 

Just me, a death goddess-tier demon, and a weird conversation about hell politics.

“I see…” Sylvia murmured, her tone light, but her expression unreadable. “So it’s really begun. The unraveling.”

Walking beside her was a tall demon with dark grey skin, long white hair tied back in a neat ribbon, and glowing silver eyes. His cloak shimmered faintly with abyssal runes, and even the roses recoiled slightly as he passed.

His name, I would soon learn, was Azazel—yes, the Azazel. The Infernal Strategist. Demon Lord of the Seventh Abyssal Step. Casual destroyer of empires. 

And—more importantly—he had 15,432 Magical Power.

I knew this because I peeked at him using the Absolute Truth earring in my frilly axolotl earhole.

Bad idea.

[Name: Azazel]
[Race: High Noble Demon]
[Magical Power: 15,432]
[Notes: Mood = Amused. Danger Level = Low.]

The moment I saw that number, it was like getting smacked in the lungs by a truck made of mana.

I couldn’t breathe.

I wriggled, my tiny translucent tail twitching erratically. My fronds flared out as if trying to absorb anything. Air. Moisture. Mercy.

“Ghhkkk—why is the air… so… heavy…!?”

Had I died again?! Was this what it felt like to suffocate as an aquatic salamander?! I knew I should’ve evolved gills for land!

No. No, wait. That wasn’t it.

The weight pressing down on me wasn’t the lack of water. It was him. Azazel’s mana was so dense it distorted the air around him. It wasn’t even malicious—just existing near him was like being trapped under the sea in a whirlpool of arcane pressure.

My beady eyes spun up to Sylvia in desperation. My cute little blob-face contorted into what I hoped resembled the universal expression for:

“OWNER, DO SOMETHING BEFORE I BECOME A GELATINOUS PUDDLE.”

Sylvia blinked.

Then her eyes softened.

“Aw… You want a cuddle?”

No. Wait—NO—

Before I could retreat, Sylvia brought me up to her cheek and gave me the most luxurious, warm, and entirely smothering hug known to demonkind.

“There, there,” she cooed. “Feeling overwhelmed, are you? Don’t worry. Mama’s here.”

“This really is Hell.”

My tiny limbs flailed against her silky cheek like a microwaved shrimp. Her skin was soft and smelled faintly of lavender and sulfur. I was dying. Again. But at least it was soft.

Azazel raised an eyebrow, the ghost of a smirk playing at his lips.

“…You’ve grown soft, Sylvia.”

“Have I?” she said, giving me a head pat that felt like being gently mashed by a pillow of doom. “Maybe I’m just finally allowing myself to care.”

Azazel’s expression darkened slightly. “You know how they’ll see that. The other Lords. Especially now that the True Devils are gone.”

Sylvia’s smile didn’t fade, but her eyes grew colder.

“Yes. That’s why I must be soft when I can… and ruthless when I must.”

A butterfly landed on her shoulder. It burst into blue flame a second later.

The two continued walking, talking about realms above and below, about traitors and seals, and how “Hell has been unstable ever since the True Devils vanished.”

Apparently, Hell wasn’t ruled by the current Demon Lords. It used to be governed by beings even higher—Devils with titles like Primarch of Chains, or The Tongue of the End.

Now they were gone. Missing? Sealed? Dead? No one knew.

And in the power vacuum, things were… crumbling.

I took all this in while trying not to go into respiratory arrest.
Every now and then Sylvia would rock me gently or tuck me into her cloak like a swaddled infant. I tried to look grateful.

“I am a fearsome creature,” I reminded myself. “I shall become a God and shake the heavens. Just… not right now. Right now I am a glorified water balloon.”

Somewhere behind me, Azazel chuckled.

“…Cute pet. What’s his name?”

Sylvia tilted her head.

“Blob”

Azazel raised a brow. “Blob?”

She shrugged. 

Her golden eyes drifted to mine. I stiffened.

I tried to look like a harmless idiot.
I think I succeeded a little too well, because she cooed again and kissed my forehead.

And with that, my morning of dignity died once more

TWO HOURS LATER

I blinked. The ceiling above me was... velvet? Gold-trimmed? Definitely not the inside of that cursed water tank. My limbs—or what could be generously called "flippers"—twitched in surprise. I must've fallen asleep, and someone, presumably Her Majesty the Demon Queen, had carried me here.

Her room was enormous. A tower-sized canopy bed stood at the far end, draped in midnight silk. Bookshelves crammed with ominous tomes and trinkets lined the walls, and the entire place reeked of incense and authority.

I hopped up with all the enthusiasm of a determined sausage and splashed out of the water tank.

Plop.

Landing on the stone floor, I waddled. Yes—waddled. My slimy little axolotl body squished and squeaked as I moved across the polished black tiles, scouting the room.

That’s when I heard her.

“Oh my devil, that’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen!”

I flinched. Tried to spin around heroically. Instead, I rotated half a degree and flopped sideways.

“Tch… I’m shaped like a thick sausage,” I muttered, trying to strike a pose.

She was a demon girl with twin tails, wearing a dark, skin-tight uniform. Crimson eyes, fanged smile. The words “professional menace” came to mind.

Then she picked me up.

“Who’s a handsome little squishy? You are! You are!” she cooed.

My cheeks heated up. Curse these blushing gills!

Mother warned me about women like you.

So, I blew bubbles at her face.

Pfffblrb.

She blinked… teetered… and then collapsed backward like a felled tree, unconscious.

“…Huh?”

I tilted my head. She was out cold. I activated my earring—Absolute Truth shimmered over my vision.

Name: Velra
Race: Mid-Tier Demon
Magical Power: 700
Status: CUTENESS OVERLOAD (UNCONSCIOUS)
Role: Bedroom Guardian of Queen Sylvia

“…Pathetic,” I mumbled, and blew more bubbles at her, just to assert dominance.

Satisfied, I waddled over to the door, looked up, and spotted the doorknob.

“Yeah, no way I’m reaching that.”

Turning with practiced indignation, I made my way toward the massive bed. There were tiny velvet steps at the base—probably for Sylvia’s cats or something. I took them.

Climb. Climb. Climb.

The mattress was absurdly soft. I collapsed into it with a sigh of victory and curled up.

That’s when the door burst open.

Sylvia Veo Lucifera—the Demon Queen herself—stormed in, her eyes glowing faintly, dark aura trailing behind her like smoke.

She froze. Looked at the collapsed demon. Then looked at me.

I stared back.

Her lips parted in astonishment. Then, slowly, a wide, proud smile stretched across her face. “You… did that?”

I blinked.

Before I could deny it, even though I did technically have a small part in it, she rushed forward and scooped me up.

“You’re incredible, Blob!” she squealed, hugging me so tightly that I squeaked. Her magic, vast and frightening, leaked for just a moment.

That was all I needed.

[Predation] Activated.
Magical Power: 42 → 89
New Innate Ability Unlocked: [Charm] – Causes individuals of the opposite sex to view the user positively.

I shivered. I felt stronger. The world looked slightly different—sharper, louder, more… digestible.

But for just a moment—just one breath—I saw it.

Above Sylvia’s head.

Magical Power: 35,000

...No. That couldn’t be right.

I blinked, and it was gone.

She nuzzled me under her chin. “You’re my little assassin-blob now, aren’t you~?”

I blew another bubble in frustration.